A Network of Ideas
by dashboardlight
Summary: A list of prompts on Kurt/Blaine from Glee. Every prompt is different. All romantic in some way/shape/form.
1. Beauty

A/N - it is not required to read the stories in order. Every story is different. Every rating is different. Every word count is going to be different. Some will be long, and some will be drabbles. But all will feature Kurt and Blaine in some sort of way, shape, or form. I'm marking the rating up to a T, maybe later to an M, if it goes that high. I'm basing these off the prompt ideas off of these here topic/44309/57910578/1/, but I'm not making 100 words of less.

* * *

1 - Beauty

* * *

It is the way that his hair falls perfectly across his face. It is the effortless way that he looks perfect. The way that his lips turn into a smile when something is funny, and the tears that run from his face when he's broken. It is the quiet way in which he reads, slowly turning page by page, as if his fingers can absorb the messages and meaning within. It is the way his eyes shine when he performs, the music leaking into them and busting from the seams, excited and overzealous.

It's the way that he listens quietly without judgement. The way he is a friend. A brother. A son. A person to love and cherish. A person that cares for you, and will do anything for you.

It is the way his brain works, the ways in which everything clicks and falls into place. The ways of the inside of his skull slowly turning and fusing together to create everything that he is, and ever will be.

It's the way that he knows what he wants. The way that he won't let people bring him down. The head upon his shoulders, and the strength in his neck. You can only keep your head up for so long, and for him, he has kept it up the longest of all.

It's the things that everyone can see. The way he loves his father. The quiet ways. The ways of cooking dinner and cleaning the house, the ways of helping him at work, without being asked. It's the way that he knows the world. The sure ways. The way of expecting too much and not getting enough. It is the way of his strong, but kind heart.

It's the way he is with his boyfriend.

The ways they are in public. Quiet, and together, hands by their sides and faces turned towards one another, an inch of distance separating them. This is Ohio after all. Once they are in New York, they will let their hands linger and their touches longer. But here, they must wait. Their smiles are enough for now.

It's the way he is in private. The way that he kisses, but slow and hard. Passionate and angry. Kind and gentle. It is the way he brushes his boyfriends hair back after making love, the quiet, sweet glide of his finger tips across tan skin, finally resting on his cheek bones, brushing, brushing, brushing.

It is the way he comes, but silent and loud, the way he likes to cuddle (but will deny that he does), burrowing for warmth and love.

It is the way he is beautiful in everything he does, and everything he is.


	2. Love

The following doesn't apply to some parts of Glee. Everything is canon up until Kurt left and went to Dalton, except he didn't come back to McKinley, himself and Blaine stayed at Dalton.

* * *

2. Love

* * *

"Blaine! Blaine! You'll never believe what happened! The Warblers gave me a solo! I perform for them on Wednesday! I don't know what to pick, should I go theatrical? Or is that too much? I just...", his voice burst off with excitement, as his cheeks flushed. His hands fluttered beside him. He couldn't keep the grin off of his face.

"That's fantastic Kurt! They're going to love you. Stay after school today and I'll help you look at song choices.", his friends hand clasped his shoulder before he stood up from his chair in the library, ready to leave. "I'll see you after school Kurt. Don't get too excited now.", his grin was evident upon his youthful face before he turned and walked towards the library doors, opening them noiselessly and leaving.

Kurt watched after him with a weary sigh. He had been going to Dalton for over two weeks now, and he hadn't been picked on once. In fact, the people here were even _nice. _They included him. They asked him to parties, to study groups. They asked how he was in the mornings. The first day he was here he was met with a smile from Blaine and an invitation to join his group for lunch.

He wasn't shoved into lockers, he wasn't bullied and harassed. He had almost even forgot the shocking cold feeling of syrup hitting his clothes and hair. The burning humiliation behind his eye lids. The shame.

Here, he was accepted and liked. Here, he had Blaine.

Blaine... Who was kind, and sweet to him and always so happy and enthusiastic about everything. Blaine who was kind to everyone, who was smart and handsome and sang like a dream. Blaine who would never look at him with anything other than friendship.

Kurt knew that he was selfish to expect more. Here Blaine was, going out of his way to show up to his classes, to help with homework and now with The Warblers. Blaine who was gentle and patient with him, who didn't expect anything out of him. He was just _nice. _He didn't have some secret hidden motive like those at McKinley. He wasn't going to turn his back on Kurt when he would need him most, like his "friends" from his old school.

And OK, maybe he was being harsh. Maybe he was being cruel. But for once, Kurt Hummel was taking care of himself, he was thinking of himself. He wasn't going to go out of his way to be nice to those that would just hurt him in the end.

Kurt Hummel had learned.

* * *

He got the solo. As soon as Blaine had heard he let out a shout and tugged his friend into his arms, while Kurt's managed to wrap around his own waist. He ignored the way he smelt, the way he felt. He just squeezed back and couldn't remember a time he had been so happy. A time where everything finally seemed OK, and that the hurt and suffering could be over and that Kurt could finally just live. Could live and be happy. Even if Blaine was just a friend.

"...would just be an excuse to spend more time with you."

Kurt felt his breath close in throat, as Blaine closed the distance between them and put his lips upon Kurt's own. He felt the world spin around him, his feet leave the ground. His hands fluttered beside him before he finally raised them and put them upon Blaine like he had wanted to for all these weeks.

And when Blaine and himself finally parted, they smiled nervously at one another as his friend (friend?) ran his hand through his hair and said, "We better practice."

And oh. Regionals, that's why Blaine had come to him, was to pick out a song and practice (like all those months ago when Kurt first came to Dalton). But Kurt shoved that to the back of his mind, and lived in the present. Kurt Hummel wasn't a daring person, but he was that day we he replied, "I thought we already were."

* * *

There were kisses after that day. Many, many kisses. Long kisses. Short kisses. Angry kisses. Happy kisses. Sexual kisses. Sweet kisses. So many ways to kiss a person, so many firsts to share together.

Like the first "I love you". Kurt had planned to make it a big day, with a dinner and a movie, something that Blaine wouldn't expect but love anyhow. He would kiss him sweetly, say the three words he had felt for forever, and Blaine would say them back.

But it didn't turn out like that at all. Blaine was the one who said it first, in a coffee shop after they had preformed at regionals, a smile upon his face as he gazed into Kurt's eyes, and Kurt had paused. Paused and said it back. "I love you too."

Like the first time they made love. Long and sweet, while they both laughed because neither quite knew what they were doing. But that was OK, because they were with each other. They loved each other, and it was okay. It was okay to mess up and not know what they were doing. It was okay. They loved each other.

And as the years went on, graduations, new york, marriage, babies. They loved one another through it all. Love was present in their lives and never left. Love was something they held close to one another, something that would never leave them.

* * *

"Blaine. You look ridiculous.", Kurt said with a laugh as he looked at his husband (husband, no longer boyfriends. Partners. Lovers). Blaine had dressed up in one of his many ridiculous bow ties as Kurt laughed and grabbed a hold of it, the silk soft in his palm.

There was a knock on the door then, but neither boy paied attention. Neither boy went and opened it. They stayed there staring at one another, Kurt's fingers still trailing into the soft silk.

The door opened then with a quite wosh. Kurt closed his eyes. Fingers digging harder into the silk.

Footsteps approached him, and he dug harder, blood welling up in the shallow cuts that he couldn't feel. He continued to stare at Blaine. Blaine and his calm eyes, Blaine and his warm hands. Kurt was so cold.

He felt a hand descent upon his shoulder. "Kurt? It's time to take your medicine."

He shook his head, a lump coming into his throat.

The hand vanished as the speaker of the voice came to stand in front of him, kneeling down to take his bloodied hand. "Kurt. You know we've talked this over before.", she said as a finger brushed across the narrow gash. Kurt itched to snatch his hand away, but his head hung down, and he didn't move. He didn't say anything.

Blaine was quite beside him.

"Blaine doesn't like you being here.", he finally spoke, eyes coming up and staring, finally blinking. Blinking but not seeing. They were glassy and dull, life wiped away just like the blood upon his palm as Doctor Susan tended to his palm. He stared at her a moment before glancing back down into his lap.

She eyed him sadly. She knew what they told the doctors. Don't feel sorry for the patients. Be strong for them. Help them, but don't feel sad. There is already enough sadness in this place, without adding their own to the patients.

But she felt a soft spot for Kurt. She felt sorry for this boy. This boy who used to be so full of life and beauty, this boy who was not sitting here before her, speaking to a boy that nobody else could see, eyes glassy and unfocused as he lived out the rest of his life in a place that he didn't quite understand.

Susan didn't know who Blaine was. She didn't know who any of the named voices were that Kurt , or any of her other patients spoke of. Maybe Blaine, Burt, Nick, Rachel, Finn, and all the rest of his senseless names and chatter didn't exist at all, but came from the inside of his own brain. Maybe they did exist, long ago. Maybe they still existed today. She just didn't know.

But she knew that the feeling in her chest, the feeling of despair sitting there like a hibernating bear was real. Kurt was hurting. There were all hurting here. And the only way to help them was through medicine and senseless talk. Talk and medicine of which most of them didn't understand, but went along with anyway.

She bandaged his hand, while he continued to stare down, limp hair falling into his pale face. His scabbed lips barely moved and he quietly breathed beside her. She released his hand and sat it down in his lap with the other one. She continued to stay crouched, her palm coming to rest upon his knee.

"Come on now Kurt. I know you always want to get this over. I can even bring you something latter. Coffee? Everyone likes coffee.", she smiled at him. They weren't supposed to bring the patients anything, but when his eyes met hers again and lit up with something keen to remembrance, she knew that she would be bringing him coffee every night until the end of her job, the end of the time she finally left.

She watched him with a soft expression as he rose to his feet, and fell in step beside her, not speaking but following.

She had hope. She had hope for anybody here. She had hope for Kurt and his broken face. She had hope for Kurt when he spoke of Blaine, and Burt, and every person that was real to him. She had hope that one day, Kurt would understand.

* * *

This idea came from love. (obviously.) the overpowering love that can't ever leave, that won't ever leave you but is always there.


End file.
